


An Angel's Blade

by Redamber79



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Arranged Marriage, Attempted Murder, Enemies to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Angst, Gay Sex, M/M, Outdoor Sex, Sharing a Bed, Suicide Attempt, Wing Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-08 21:53:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 18,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19876663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redamber79/pseuds/Redamber79
Summary: In the 67th year of Lord Gabriel’s reign under the star of the Impala, a boy child is born to House Winchester, and the prophecy heralds the end of the war between the angels and the humans.Sam is the second born son of house Winchester, his father's pride, his mother's joy. The war with the angels seems endless, but it has been prophesied that a mortal of House Winchester will wed the royal line of Angels, bringing end to the war.King John of Winchester however is a cold, proud man since the death of his wife, Mary, and is raising his sons to fight the angels despite the promise made. He spends Sam’s life telling him horror stories of winged nightmares stealing human babes from their beds, so Sam is ready to do his duty and kill the leader of the angels, though he’d lose his life in the process. His mother died when he was merely eight, but he never forgot her words, "The heart is the strength and the weakness, aim for it and the war will end."The night of the wedding comes and Sam strikes, and fails utterly. Can Gabriel convince Sam to give him a chance, or is the prophecy simply the mad ravings of one desperate for an end to the fighting?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my submission for the SPN Trope Celebration! Ready for wicked plots, romance, drama, sensuous pleasure, sacrifice, and a happy ending?
> 
> Here goes!
> 
> Thanks to justanotherbusyfangirl for answering question after question, and to my artist, archester-draws.
> 
> Art is here: [archester-draws](https://archester-draws.tumblr.com/post/186562073503/heres-the-art-post-i-took-part-in-the-spn-trope)

Prince Sam paced nervously, his long legs carrying from one end of his suite to the other, while his older brother, the heir-apparent Prince Dean, waited impassively, sitting in a chair by the fire with a glass in hand. 

"Sammy, sit, drink with me," he beckoned with a wave of one hand, as though Sam had any inclination to muddy his mind with such a task before him. He wore white silks and doeskin, a coronet of hammered silver on his brow, holding back his chestnut hair. He pulled it from his head and eyed it with distaste, then tossed it onto his brother's lap on his next pass. He rubbed at his aching forehead, his father's final lecture and admonition still ringing in his ears. Perhaps the father he remembered from his childhood with his smiles and laughter might return if only Sam could fulfill his task. But then, he wasn't likely to survive the attempt.

Sam glanced around his appointed quarters again, the expensive pristine tapestries lining the walls, the warm, golden oak floor glowing in the firelight and candles. The chairs by the fire were comfortable and inviting, as was the enormous bed in the next room with heavy velvet drapes to block out the light, and gossamer sheer curtains that would allow a breeze but would keep out biting insects. Sam sneered in his mind, though his expression remained as impassive as his brother's.  _ Do they even  _ **_have_ ** _ bugs in this supposed blessèd land? _ He snorted at his own thoughts, then felt his cheeks warm slightly when Dean gave him an amused glance. 

"A silver for your thoughts, Sammy?" Dean teased, his eyes twinkling and his lips curving in a troublesome smile that Sam knew all too well.

Sam deflected. "A silver? That's unusual for you brother; your standard offering is a copper, and then you ask for ha'pence back."

"'Tis your wedding day after all. I'll only require tuppence in return." Dean's smile broadened with an amused twist of his lips, determined to draw Sam into a quarrel as a distraction.

"Scoundrel," Sam muttered with a glare.

Dean merely smiled in return. "Knave."

Sam resumed his pacing, running his hands through his hair. He glanced over at his brother, who looked nearly comfortable in his rust leathers and green silks. His circlet was also hammered silver, of slightly more intricate design, but he wore it with far more ease, having had far more practice. Sam rubbed at his forehead again, pausing before a mirror, made of glass and silver no less! to straighten his tunic and jerkin. He didn't dare sit for fear of rubbing the nap on the doeskin the wrong way or catching the pearlescent silks on something, but his nerves wouldn't let him stay still. The buckskin boots at least gave him a measure of protection for his feet that doeskin wouldn't as he strode the length of the room again.

"You've met my husband to be. What think you?" Sam asked his elder brother suddenly, and Dean gave a graceful shrug as he brought his glass to his lips again, sipping at the amber liquid for a moment before shutting his eyes in bliss.

"You'll have an interesting enough time. Fair of feature and hair, eyes a shade not to be beaten by the gold of this lovely mead. There’s a hint of lavender to it, you should really try some," Dean cajoled, and Sam felt his lips twisting in annoyance. He cleared his features before replying.

"Please, be serious. You know what father has commanded," Sam reminded him, then felt a moment's doubt. Did his brother know? He could hardly clarify now, given the nature of his task and their location within the angel city stronghold.

"You're here to end the fighting. The marriage bed isn't the most distasteful way to achieve such a worthy goal, Sam." Dean's expression showed only concern for his younger brother's happiness, and his words were deliberately opaque, it seemed to Sam. 

"Indeed not, especially with a groom as fair as you make mine out to be." Sam decided to get a bit of his own back and needle his brother. "Need I be concerned with these talks you and my groom-to-be have had? Am I to be usurped at the altar by my handsome elder brother? You've made many a visit to this fair city for negotiations, Dean."

Dean straightened subtly and Sam eyed him for a careful moment, waiting for his reply. There was something furtive about his expression that he couldn't place.

"No need to fear, Sammy, I've no interest in your groom, and besides, our meetings were always chaperoned, by Benny and Ca--" Sam stared as his brother flushed red "--Casper, Casteel, some such. The brother of your betrothed." 

"You know as well as I do, Dean, for Castiel has been to our home as a messenger. What on god’s earth are you doing, pining after the brother of my betrothed?"

"I am most certainly  _ not _ pining for Cas, I barely remember what he looks like!" Dean protested a little too vehemently, and Sam laughed for the first time that day.

"Cas, is it? You're positively smitten! I never thought I'd see the day!" Sam grinned, his growing headache forgotten in the wake of teasing his brother.

Dean was positively scarlet, his freckles standing out clear against his reddened skin. "I do trust you'll say nothing to Father; you know his opinion since Mother's death. As though it were the fault of all angels that the fellow he was able to sneak into the palace to try to heal her was unable to do so. You know he still claims that angel, what was his name… it doesn't matter. But to blame the entire people for the mistakes of one, I'm frankly amazed he's allowing you to wed, no matter what the prophecy said. Our people would never stand for the prophecy to be ignored of course, not if it were to grant us peace after a thousand years."

That certainly confirmed Sam's suspicions. Dean had no idea that he was there to wed, and then, in revenge for the angel Azazel's actions, kill his bridegroom this very night.


	2. Chapter 1

Sam reentered his suite hours later, escorted the whole way by a lesser angel. He hadn’t been prepared. Somehow in the few days he’d been here, every angel he’d seen had had their wings disguised somehow. Not this day however, and he’d scarce been able to contain his awe. That would have given the angel populace a splendid impression of their ruler's new husband, gaping like a country cousin, but what was he to do? Soldier on, for his father’s pride and his mother’s memory. He remembered the last words she spoke to him, though he’d been a mere eight years old when her illness and that cursed angel took her from them forever.

"The heart is the strength and the weakness, aim for it and the war  _ will  _ end." Her voice had been weak and thready with the poisonous illness in her lungs, and she’d known her time was near. "Don't let hatred consume you, my darling boy. I taught you love, always remember that."

They'd been married in a small church, scare more than a chapel, with only a few witnesses. Hostilities were still alive and well after all. Dean stood for him, with Sir Benjamin Lafitte in attendance as well as Lady Charlotte (call me Charlie). She was enough of a rogue to be intrigued by the angel city, rather than frightened by its strangeness. One Anael had been asked to escort her, and Sam could see they were quite content with each other's company. Castiel stood for Gabriel, though his eyes never left Dean's face, a heat in his eyes that ought to have set Dean, or at least his attire, aflame long since. Sam snorted as he thought back and resolved to tease his brother mercilessly before he left tonight. 

The third was named Balthazar, a saturnine-faced angel with a dry wit and a glass in his hand every moment they weren't in the chapel. He and Benny circled each other somewhat warily, as they were both there as soldiers. It seemed strange, Sam would have thought Castiel more suited to the role, with his rather stiff military bearing, but he had no doubt that the immortal libertine would hold his own against the human Benny just the same. 

All of this faded to the background as his groom appeared, a graceful figure in gold and cream silks, a wreath of mistletoe entwined with ivy upon his brow. At first glance, his husband-to-be appeared to be of small stature: an unassuming man despite his raiment, with dark blond hair, and light brown eyes. As he approached however, Sam noticed the lighter, sun-kissed streaks, and as their eyes met, Sam was stunned by the power in those gold flecked eyes. Gabriel approached and stood proudly before him, as though unaware that he was the shortest man in the room, or rather that his lack of height was immaterial. There was warmth in that gaze, a strength that Sam wished he could rely upon, but it wasn't meant to be. He kept his own expression neutral and saw his groom's face take on a mildly mocking, amused cant. 

Gabriel joined him before the altar, and a second, small man joined them, sporting a curled beard of salt and pepper, spectacles on his nose sliding down as he leafed through a religious text absently. "Have we the witnesses?" he asked, glancing about. Dean and Castiel stepped forward and the man's gaze sharpened for a moment. "I see, very well, I'll allow it." Sam felt his spine stiffen, wondering what the reason the clergyman could have had to reject Dean as a witness. Because he was human? Sam felt his resolve strengthen, if this would be the bigotry he faced here. The clergyman turned his gaze on Sam, who felt a vague spinning sensation as though his mind had been rifled, every secret laid bare, but surely that was simply his imagination and the lack of food, for there was no sign that the cleric planned to stop the ceremony.

Gabriel met the man's gaze and something seemed to pass between them, then Gabriel nodded. Sam glanced at his brother but he was still staring at Castiel, a small smile about his lips. He glanced back at his own bridegroom, only to find him inspecting Sam’s face with a certain interested curiosity. Sam felt his cheekbones heat in embarrassment and glanced to the clergyman, who was apparently waiting on him as well. Stammering an apology, he nodded to his soon-to-be husband and waited for the clergyman to begin. 

"Before we begin, you must know that which you wed." The clergyman spoke softly but his voice carried a weight that Sam couldn't identify, and he wondered if the man were an angel or human, as he thought he'd seen both in the city. There was a rushing sound and Sam's line of sight was filled with huge, glorious, golden wings. Gabriel stood before him, his feet spread wide for balance, his wings spread wide and arching high over their heads, reaching nearly to the lofted ceiling at the tips. There was a loud gasp, and Sam glanced about, discovering all the angels had revealed their wings. Cas's were the colour of jet or volcanic glass, the deepest black and seemingly sharp at the edges, while Anael's were russet and appeared the softness of velvet. Meeting her eyes, he'd no doubt there was steel beneath. Balthazar had wings of a pale sky blue, the same colour as his eyes in fact, but they were as sharp as a cut diamond, or perhaps his wit, for amusement curved his lips at the reactions of the humans.

Sam stared about the chapel and felt his heart nearly stutter to a stop. The short, spectacled man was glowing with an unearthly light. For the first time, Sam heard his bridegroom speak. "No need for such a display, Father, I'll not have you frightening my spouse and our guests."

_ Father? Who would be a father to angels, save… _ Sam blanched, meeting the deity's knowing eyes, and nearly voided his bladder. Somehow he kept control of his bodily functions and met God's stare, though he wondered at his own audacity.

"I had to test the mettle of your groom, my son. If he's to cope with your antics, he needs a strong will. I've no doubt his will is strong enough for all that will come to pass." Sam swallowed and gave a slow nod, though why God would allow Sam to kill his eldest remaining son, he didn't know. God's lips quirked in a small smile and he spoke softly in Sam's mind.  _ I have my reasons for what I do, child. _

The ceremony passed in a fog; Sam's shock over the winged presence of the angels, the revelation that his commitment to his nuptials was to be witnessed by God Himself, that God had read his plan, and allowed everything to continue nevertheless, allowed him to do little more than stumble along with the ceremony, answering correctly only because he’d learned the responses by rote. Suddenly his wrist was scored and bound tightly to Gabriel’s own bleeding wrist, and he was bending to press a chaste kiss to his groom’s lips. He had presumed it would be a chaste kiss, however the moments their lips touched, Sam felt a spark travel down his spine, all the way to his toes, and the kiss deepened, their mouths slanting against each other as Sam stooped to reach his husband, one hand sliding from his shoulder to cup his jaw lightly, the warmth of wings pressing at his back as he was enfolded within them.

The kiss went on, until there was a low chuckle from Dean, and a low rasping voice that could only be Castiel, admonishing his brother. "A touch of decorum wouldn't go astray, Gabriel…"

The wings vanishing from about him, Sam bolted upright, his cheeks aflame, and met the wide eyes of his husband, who had lifted his free hand to his own lips. A hand that trembled slightly, though Sam doubted anyone further than he stood would see it. Nor would they have heard Gabriel's whisper of his name.

Now, returned to his own suite for the last time, he rubbed at his wrist absently, the slight sting of the cut a solid reminder of his task. This would not be the only blood shed this night. Sam touched the hilt of the knife at his belt and thought of his father, who demanded this, and of his blessed mother, who deserved to be avenged. 

A knock sounded at his door, and a moment later Dean stuck his head into his chambers. "Why the long face? That kiss boded well for your future, did it not?" Dean asked, a light in his eyes and a bounce in his step.

"I was thinking of Father, wishing he could have been here. And of Mother." Safe enough to admit, they spoke of her often enough. "Should you not be overseeing your packing? I thought you were leaving this evening?"

Dean glanced about the room innocently, and Sam sighed, admonishing his elder brother with a stern look. "Dean…"

"So eager to be rid of me, knave? I'm cut to the quick! 'Take thy dagger, pierce mine heart!'" he quoted, the words taken from a play that had been popular the last season of theatre, and Sam cast his eyes towards the ceiling, pleading that any and all deities might grant him patience.

"What game are you playing at, scoundrel?" he demanded, and Dean gave a broad smile. 

"Surely a few more days in my company wouldn't be so unpleasant, now would they?" he asked, a hand to heart, the very portrait of injured innocence.

"Dean, you know we leave for our honeymoon in the morning, how long would you stay, if you wish to spend time with me? You could go and return in a month." A sneaking suspicion took Sam by the ear, and he snaked out a hand in a lightning fast strike. Dean blocked instinctually, then winced as Sam's knuckles rapped against the pulse at his wrist. Grabbing his brother's arm he pushed up his sleeve and found a bandage matching his own. 

"Dean, what have you done? Father will… I've no words for what Father will say!" Sam's mind was spinning, the thought that his task might endanger Dean had been the reason Dean had been meant to leave this very evening, but now? Now, the first arrow was loosed and the battle plan had fallen awry. Another thought occurred to him, and he asked despite himself. "Who would you have had witness this, if not your own brother?"

"Sir Benjamin stood for me." Here Dean looked shame-faced, knowing he'd struck a blow to his brother.

"Do you have so little regard for me, your own brother?" Sam inquired, hurt leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

"No, Sammy, never! But tis your nuptials which are prophesied, not mine. I'd merely thought to spare you the fanfare of the Heir-Apparent being wed. It should be your day, brother, that I fell in love and had but today to accomplish my own fate, tis no fault of yours."

Sam felt at war within himself. The desire to pummel his elder brother for his thoughtless, reckless choice was strong, but in the same moment, he wished him happiness, though his own would forever be beyond his grasp. Dean had chosen and Sam could only envy him that freedom.

"Then allow me to be the first to congratulate you, you poor excuse for a horse's ass. And don't you dare point out that Benjamin has already done so, or I'll knock you on your royal rear end."

"Striking the heir is treason," Dean reminded him with a smile of amusement curving his lips, and Sam let out a bark of laughter. Throwing his arms wide, he indicated the room and the city beyond.

"Only if I were still under Father’s rule. But I’m wed to an angel now. What exactly could he do? Declare war? Voiding the prophecy with his actions?" Sam felt an unpleasant swooping in his gut at the thought that this would be the result of his actions, but he was resolved to his duty and his fate. He kept a smile on his lips, then threw caution to the wind, and tackled his elder brother to the ground, prompting a bout of roughhousing such as they hadn't had in a decade or more.

He had Dean pinned to the ground with his arm twisted behind his back when there was a knock at his chamber door. Without a thought for dignity or explanations, a sweating Sam called out a loud "Enter!" only to have the door opened by his own husband, and Dean's. Castiel made a move to come to his husband's aid, his face a thundercloud, but Gabriel took his younger brother by the arm, arresting his advance. 

"Ah, brotherly affection. Shall we demonstrate how such bouts go when wings are involved, Castiel?" Castiel froze, eyeing his brother warily.

"Father forbade such actions indoors after the library incident," Castiel reminded him.

Gabriel gave the smile of a true miscreant, set on trouble. "But we're not in the library, are we?" 

Sam and Dean froze, watching their husbands in surprise. Sam held his breath, wondering at the next move, but Dean took his moment of distraction and tumbled them over, kneeling over his back and with an arm bound about his throat.

"Yield, little brother," Dean ordered, breathless and leaning heavily on Sam.

"I see no brother here who beats me in stature, why should I?" Sam panted, trying to throw him off as Dean's grip tightened slightly.

"I'd strip my trousers to prove you wrong, but I'd dislike shaming you before your new husband," Dean offered, drawing a guffaw from Gabriel and an admonishing call of his name from his own husband.

"Please Dean, I've no wish to have to heal your injuries this evening," Castiel sounded tired and Sam wondered, can angels even become fatigued? Perhaps only the soul-weariness of dealing with one such as Dean in a mood for mischief. Sam knew that all too well. Dean stood however, pulling Sam up with him, and turned to his husband. 

"You're assuming I'd be the one injured, beloved, and I find that most painful of all. My brother may be the size of an aurochs, but I assure you, he also has the mind of one."

"An aurochs is he?" Gabriel asked, casting his glance over Sam in a way that lit a flame in his core and his cheeks. "Seems fate is kind to me."

"Gabriel, we've no need of your lewd commentary, please!" Castiel scolded, and Gabriel turned to his brother with a teasing smile.

"Ah yes, once more Castiel is the voice of reason, the very essence of virtue, not that you waited for your nuptials to consummate it…"

Sam turned to Dean in amusement, only to see his elder brother blushing furiously. Sam glanced back at the two angels; seeing Castiel wearing a fond expression as he watched his new husband, he felt something akin to envy. Gabriel's expression gave him pause, for he was looking at Sam in much the same way, tinged with… hope? 

Sam felt his cheeks heat, and he glanced down and away, unable to bear such a look directed his way. Dean stepped from his side and joined his husband, enveloped in an ebony winged embrace, and Sam shivered, wondering at the touch. Could he let Dean have this? Could  _ he? _ He shook his head, steeling his resolve. His father's orders were clear, and his mother's memory demanded it. There was a murmur of conversation and the heavy oaken door to his chambers closed, and Sam found himself alone with his husband for the first time.

Gabriel appeared as he first had, his wings hidden from Sam's view, and he felt an obscure pang of loss. He recalled their warmth from earlier and longed to feel it again. Shaking his head to dispel his traitorous thoughts, he put on his most charming smile. Stepping forward he found himself wondering at the gentle scent surrounding his husband, like a light rainfall. 

"Sam, we've some time before the presentation to the rest of the angels, would you care to sit with me?" Gabriel asked quietly, as though afraid to startle Sam. 


	3. Chapter 2

Sam stepped closer, enjoying the way Gabriel's eyes widened, and bent to murmur in his husband's ear. "I've a better way to pass the time," he breathed softly against his earlobe, and as he felt more than heard Gabriel's gasp, bent further to lay a soft kiss to the tender skin just behind his ear. Gabriel gave a low moan and Sam felt himself responding to the sensuous sound, while Gabriel's hands reached to grasp him by the shoulders, pushing him back to search his gaze. 

"Sam, I've no wish to force you into anything you don't wish to do. I understand an arranged marriage would be a disappointment, but I swear I'll be a good husband to you. We've no need to rush, waiting to … to…" he gasped softly, as Sam had taken his hand and was kissing his way across him palm. Gabriel's whiskey-gold eyes darkened, and he closed his free hand over Sam's shoulder, arresting his progress. Sam attempted to press closer, his eyes widening when he found he couldn't. So, the stories of angel strength were true. "Sam, I'm content to wait but rest assured, if you press this, I will have you now."

Sam felt his heart pound in anticipation, adrenaline and desire swirling together in a heady mix as he once more bent to capture his husband's lips. Gabriel groaned against his lips, and a thunderclap sounded, ringing in Sam's ears. A moment later Gabriel's wings surrounded him and Sam was enveloped in the delicious scent of fresh rain, and Gabriel's hands tightened on his shoulders. 

"Sam, bedroom. If nothing else, I want to explore you, my Sam." He tugged Sam along, their lips never leaving each other, until Sam bent further and scooped his groom into his arms, and the angel immediately wrapped his legs around Sam's waist and his arms about Sam's shoulders, tangling his fingers in his hair. 

Sam moaned as Gabriel tugged lightly at his hair, feeling his arousal building, and fought against a pang of guilt. That Gabriel would die as a pawn for the war, that was inevitable. But Sam had no need to use him so personally as well. For the first time, he felt a stab of shame, and he tried to break the kiss. Just then Gabriel rolled his hips, matching Sam's hardness with his own, and Sam groaned as his knees nearly buckled. There was a snap behind his ear as Gabriel snapped his fingers, and suddenly they were into the next room and sprawled on the bed, limbs tangled and Gabriel astride him as he rocked slowly against Sam, kissing his way down his throat. Sam's fingers hunted for the closures of Gabriel's clothing, reasoning a truer strike would be easier without additional layers. 

They stripped each other quickly, more than one seam sacrificed to their haste, and Sam discovered much to his delight that Gabriel's wings were highly sensitive to his touch.  _ I can't wait to use that in public,  _ he thought in lustful amusement, then buried his face against his would-be-lover's throat to hide his expression, carefully nipping over his pulse.  _ There's no future here, remember your mother. Aim for the heart. _

Sam allowed himself to fall back lithely onto the pillows, stretching his arms sensuously over his head, and bucking his hips upward. He hoped that Gabriel would be occupied with his own pleasure for a moment, for his own arousal had flagged noticeably. His hand closed over the hilt of his dagger under the pillow, and he closed his eyes, even as he moaned softly and writhed again, keeping up the illusion. 

As Gabriel looked down at him, a fleeting expression in his eyes, there and gone so quickly Sam couldn't identify it, Sam swept the knife out and plunged it into his husband's chest. Striking true for the heart, he felt no surge of pleasure or even success, but a great welling shame and sadness. He looked up to Gabe's eyes, which reflected his sadness back at him.

"I truly wish you had found another way, my Sam," Gabriel whispered gravely, and pulled the dagger loose with nary a mark nor a drop of blood. He handed the dagger to Sam with a sad smile, and in a heartbeat was dressed in breeches and a sleeveless tunic. "Come, join me by the fire, we've much to discuss." He vanished.

Sam dropped the dagger and fell back against the pillows again, and scrubbed his empty hands over his face, his stomach roiling. He'd failed, that was the cause for his upset of course, and his plan had been known all along. This was why God hadn't interfered; he knew Sam couldn't harm him. Failure was why tears filled his eyes, tracking down his temples in scalding lines of shame and self-loathing. 

He couldn’t… couldn’t do it. There was no way for him to succeed, which meant he’d failed his father, failed his mother’s memory. Worse yet, part of him was glad. The monstrous stories his father had told him of angels and their fearsome winged death were completely unlike anything he’d witnessed today, and he’d no notion how to continue. His tear-blurred gaze fell upon his dagger, laying on the bed next to him, and he saw a glimmer of an escape. His hand closed over it again, and he turned the point to his own chest.

A blur of golden wings swept over him, rolling him as the dagger was ripped from his grasp and flung with such force it imbedded a handspan into the column of the bed’s canopy. “I hadn't thought you a coward, my Sam, no matter what your father taught you must do…"

"I can't… I can’t stay, I've failed him, I've failed you. I've failed my mother." There was a soft snap and Sam found himself bundled before the fireplace in the outer room in the softest cashmere robe, a blanket about his shoulders, and Gabriel sitting on a footstool before him, holding his hands.

Gabriel held his hands in the flickering firelight and spoke softly, as though to a wounded animal. 

"Tell me of her. All I know is she died of an illness some fifteen years ago and your father changed with her passing. It was amongst the harshest fighting we'd seen in centuries, so we were unable to send help." Gabriel seemed apologetic, but Sam burst out of his chair, anger twisting his stomach and boiling through his veins. 

"That is a lie,  _ dear husband _ . An angel came to us, he said to help despite the war, but instead he killed her. He murdered my mother and I've never forgotten him and his yellow eyes," Sam spat, and Gabriel froze at his words. "You know him, I was right! Tell me how to kill you, or let me kill myself, I'll not live with such murderers!"

"ENOUGH!" Gabriel snapped, and Sam found himself pressed to the far wall of his suite, pinned by the fury in Gabriel's golden gaze.


	4. Chapter 3

"That’s enough, Sam. If you truly wish to kill me, you'll require but one thing, my own blade." Gabriel flicked his wrist and though his arms were bare in the firelight a gleaming silvery blade fell into his palm and he spun it about as though to hand it to Sam. Or to throw it. Sam froze, though he couldn't have moved at any rate. "But I'll not be murdered as a pawn for something not my doing, nor the doing of any angel. You speak of Azazel, cast out millennia ago for his role in Lucifer's disgrace. I see he still does his bidding."

"Lucifer? The Morningstar? Surely he's a m-myth," Sam stuttered, and Gabriel's eyes blazed as he flew across the room.

"My brother was no myth. He was killed several centuries ago, and it cost my eldest brother his sanity and his life. I was never meant to rule, Sam. I was God's messenger, His guardian of the faith, His Healer. But my brothers, my first brothers, the other archangels, are all gone, lost to wars. We've never sought war with your people. But your people have been used by our enemies and the hatred is deeply ingrained."

"'Don't let hatred consume you…'" Sam murmured, his eyes far away, his voice soft, and Gabriel released him, and Sam slid to the floor. "What a fool I am."

"My Sam, my darling Sam. We must aim for the heart," Gabriel said in an unconscious echo of Mary of House Winchester's words all those years ago. "Let me help you. Grant me six months and we will find Azazel and bring him to justice. And if at the end of our hunt we cannot reconcile, if you wish to be free of me, I’ll give you the means."

"I thought angels couldn't divorce, that this was for life?" Sam asked, his mind whirling with the new information. He'd have to find a way to verify it, of course, but Dean could help him if he could only keep his mission silent. "Please…" He flushed, feeling the heat scorching his cheekbones, and Gabriel gave him a look of amused understanding.

"I've no wish to drive a wedge between you and your brother. I'll not tell him. And I'll instruct Castiel to remain silent as well."

Sam froze and looked up at his husband who still stood before him. "Will they all know?" 

"Father told us, Cassie and I, months ago," Gabriel confessed. "He told us it could go one of several ways. Including that if you tried to kill me and failed, you'd attempt your own life. And I would have to be faster than I've ever been in my life to stop you. I’d regret it to the end of my days, my Sam, had I failed." Gabriel reached a hand down to help him to his feet, and Sam took it absently, only to be lifted to his feet with no effort on the angel's part. Unprepared, he stumbled into his arms and Gabriel caught him. "I will never leave you, my Sam, unless you ask it of me." 

Sam stared at him through tears that stung his eyes for several heartbeats, and they fell upon each other, hands clutching and lips desperate for each taste of the other. Gabriel flew them back to the bedroom and they landed on the bed, bodies writhing together until Sam found himself pinned, the angel nipping at his throat for a moment before he drew back.

"Gabriel please, my Gabriel…"

“My Sam, wait, stop. I can feel your emotions all roiling about, it’s too soon. You want me but as a shelter, not for myself, not because you want  _ me _ , and I will wait. I will hold you, I will comfort you, but I will not take you."

"But Gabriel, I  _ do _ want you, I'm just…" Sam let out a sigh and let himself relax into the pillows. "Conflicted. There's so much for me to absorb, how can I know that what you’ve told me is true?"

"Do you pray, Sam?" Gabriel waited for Sam’s nod and tilted his head to one side, even as he moved to sit next to Sam and pull him up and into his arms. "Whom did you think was hearing your prayers? This is how my father knows this  _ may _ work out for us all. He knows your heart, all of it, not just the fear and hatred your father has taught you. He knows the love you bear as well."

Sam glanced away, ashamed, but a gentle touch to his cheek brought him back to look at Gabriel.

"My Sam, we--" A knock at the door interrupted him, and he sighed. "We must get ready for the presentation."

Sam grimaced as Gabriel slowly slipped his hands from his, unhappy at the loss of contact, but a snap of his fingers and their clothes were freshened and no longer creased and torn, though Sam found when he stretched that he'd been left with a certain ache at his throat as a reminder. Reaching over he slid his nails through Gabriel's wings and watched in some amusement as his angel stumbled.

Gabriel led him through the suite to the door, opening it to Balthazar’s amused visage. “Been getting better acquainted, I see,” he commented drily, and Sam felt his cheeks flush slightly as he stared down at the angel. Balthazar let his gaze flicker to Sam's throat and back, and gave a smug smile. 

Gabriel laid a hand lightly on Sam's wrist and addressed the other angel. "Brother, I would appreciate if you ceased needling my husband. The presentation waits, yes?" 

"Indeed, we've been waiting upon you, or had you lost track of the time? Cassie and his lovely mortal joined us some time ago, and yet here you still are. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were busy duelling swords," Balthazar smirked, the lascivious smile curving his lips leaving no room for mistaking the crude imagery. Sam felt his cheeks burn, and opened his mouth to respond when Gabriel winked at him and responded, leaving Sam sputtering with his words.

"Oh, there was no duel, Sam sheathed his in me, and I made no attempt to block his thrust, trust me."   


  
Sam froze, staring at his husband, his ears burning with shame at his actions, his stomach churning as his training fought his instincts, which said to trust the diminutive angel. Gabriel reached for his hand and tugged him down gently, and pressed a slow kiss to his lips, then murmured softly in his ear. "Shall we introduce you to my people and get a meal? Dean and Castiel ought to be there unless they've made an escape by then."

Sam thought of the way his brother and his husband had stared at each other and gave a rueful smile. "We'll be lucky if they're at the presentation at all, beloved," he murmured, the endearment slipping from his tongue easily, and Gabe stared up at him in surprise. Taking advantage of the moment, Sam bent and kissed him again, slowly, languidly, and Gabriel's hands tightened on his hips as he leaned into the kiss. Only Balthazar clearing his throat brought Sam back to reality this time, and Gabriel's eyes showed him to be as dazed as he felt. 

"Come, gentleman. To the Gardens."


	5. Chapter 4

Balthazar led them to a set of lovely, carved doors that looked as though the vine work climbing them had grown and then frozen in place. As Sam looked closer, he was unable to see seam or nail holding the vines in place, nor chisel or any other tool mark. The doors opened as they approached, untouched by any hand, and Sam tightened his grip on Gabriel’s hand in his. Gabriel wrapped an arm about Sam's waist and drew him close. 

"You've met my father, but I wish you to meet Joshua, our gardener. He never leaves the care of the Gardens, which is why the presentation is held here. It isn't formal, simply a way for us to greet those in attendance," Gabriel explained, and Sam frowned, picking at his clothes.

"You mean to tell me I could have been in something more comfortable? I’m certainly not accustomed to silks and doeskin," he complained, and Gabriel grinned up at him, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"But you do look terribly fetching, darling husband," Gabriel replied teasingly, and Sam couldn't contain the sigh that escaped him. He had a feeling many of their conversations would be in the same vein. 

They strolled through the gardens, which were both wildly breathtaking in their beauty, and somehow exactly what Sam needed to relax. The untamed, lush gardens were more like a plain of wildflowers that swept into a copse of willows, a stream running through and dappling the light. They met others here and there, having a picnic, making use of a low limb and a swing for a quiet rendezvous. In one such spot, they found their brothers in a passionate embrace, and Sam loudly enquired of his husband if he could erase certain moments and sights from his memory, lest they scar him for life.

Dean took a moment to adjust his lover's clothing, then stood to greet them. "A word of caution brother, the Gardens are well known as a place for trysts."

Sam rolled his eyes heavenward and prayed for patience. Would any of his prayers be answered, with the guilt he bore? "That might have been something I should have known sooner," he replied, eyeing his diminutive husband.

Cas chimed in helpfully, his deep voice matter-of-fact. "Modesty is a human fascination, not an angelic moral code."

"So I'm learning," Sam retorted, raising an eyebrow at Gabriel, recalling his teasing earlier.

Gabriel merely smiled innocently and turned to Castiel. "Have you seen Joshua recently? I wish to introduce my husband."

"You've but to turn around, scamp…" A low, pleasant voice came from behind them, and they turned to see one who could only be Joshua approaching, an elderly angel with a curling, greying beard and a gentle demeanour. A slow smile creased his mahogany features, a sparkle of true fondness in his chestnut eyes as he embraced Gabriel. "Congratulations are in order, my boy. The prophecy has waited long enough, I'm certain."

Gabriel turned and held out a hand to Sam, his eyes beckoning happily. He glowed in the sunlight, burnished hair, his wings gleaming as they brushed against Joshua's in greeting. Sam found himself wondering how that would feel, the gentle touch of feathers. He knew they were sensitive, would a casual greeting make him react as he had for Sam? The thought that someone else might make Gabriel shiver as he had raised an unpleasant feeling in his gut, and he stepped closer, wrapping an arm around his husband's shoulders. He dropped a gentle kiss atop his head, knowing he was being ridiculous, but he couldn't stop the feelings of envy and jealousy that roiled through him. 

Gabriel gave him a knowing look and pulled him down for a chaste kiss, running his fingers through Sam's hair. Sam smiled against his lips and let go of his negative emotions. 

How could he feel such possessiveness when not an hour earlier he'd tried to kill his husband? He tried not to think of his father, and how John would react to Sam's failure. Had he failed? According to Gabriel, he could only be killed with his own blade, but was that true? Could he find another means? But what if what Gabriel had told him was true, that Azazel was fallen, and had a thousand years ago? John surely couldn't hold the angels culpable then.

Could he?

****

Gabriel and Sam found a lovely shaded spot to stop, and Gabriel pointed out the various flowers blooming in their vicinity. Climbing trumpets, wild bramble roses, wild berries growing here and there in between. Gabriel grabbed a handful and held one out to Sam, his smile slow and inviting, and Sam felt himself flushing slightly. Somehow, here in the dappled shade, having his husband feed him berries seemed more intimate than the passionate embrace they'd shared in his bedroom. Even so, he leaned forward and took the berry carefully with his teeth, his lip catching for a moment on Gabriel's thumb, and he licked his lips to catch the tart juice, watching Gabriel's eyes darken all the while.

The next berry was held tightly in Gabriel's fingers, and Sam's lips enveloped it, his tongue teasing it away then swirling back over the pads of Gabriel's fingers to collect any stray juice the berry had left behind.

  
  
"Sam," Gabriel breathed his name softly, like a prayer, and Sam felt a strange feeling of power. His husband wanted him, despite everything. It was flattering, to say the least. He reached out a long arm and plucked a berry carefully from the bush, then held it between his teeth, waiting. Gabriel's chest heaved with his breath, and he seemed frozen, uncertain how to proceed. 

Sam gave a lazy shrug as he bit into the berry, catching half with his lips as he devoured the rest, moaning softly at the taste. That was all it took, then Gabriel was upon him, his lips hot and his tongue seeking as it delved into his mouth, exploring and tasting every inch. Sam tangled his fingers in Gabriel's hair and pulled him closer, and suddenly he was pinned, Gabriel's wings fanning over them, sheltering them from view as Gabriel fumbled with the ties of Sam's doeskin tunic. A low growl escaped him and he snapped his fingers, and suddenly both were bare-chested, and Sam couldn't resist the expanse of golden skin before him, bending and licking his way from Gabriel's collarbone down to his hip. Glancing up to his husband's eyes, Sam reached slowly for the laces of Gabriel's breeches.

"Gabriel, tell me if you don't want this. Rest assured, I certainly do." Sam reached in and freed his swollen shaft, then bent and kissed his way over the tip before licking down to the base. Mouthing his way back up to the ridge, he sealed his lips over the head and sucked, one hand reaching for Gabriel's wings and carding his fingers through the feathers to scratch lightly at the skin beneath. Gabriel bucked beneath him, a low whine escaping his lips and the angel locked his fingers in Sam's hair, whether to pull him closer or push him away Sam didn't know, but he suckled harder, then took his lover's shaft deeper into his throat, swallowing hair, his nose pressed to dark blond curls, his senses near-overwhelmed with a spicy musk that surrounded Gabriel.

Sam could feel his own arousal building like a fire in his gut, his shaft pinched and trapped behind his laces as he fondled his lover, teasing and toying with him as he moaned at the taste of him on his tongue. Gabriel’s breathing was harsh and fast, Sam’s name spilling from his tongue and his body trembling. 

"Sam, please, I'm going to--" Gabriel choked off his words with a cry as Sam did something sinful with his tongue.

"Good. I want to taste you, my husband." Sam dove back to swallow around his shaft, and Gabriel gave a shattering cry, his wings flaring as much as possible while pinned, and his release filled Sam's mouth and senses.

Gabriel stared down at Sam as he licked his lips, and a low growl filled the clearing. Sam watched his husband warily as his eyes glowed brilliantly blue, then in a flash of light and the sound of wings like thunder, Sam landed on his back on his bed, naked and with their positions reversed. 

Gabriel stared down at him and chuckled softly. "Oh Sam, you've been keeping secrets…" he teased, licking his lips in anticipation. He bent to his self-appointed task, and Sam fell back against the pillows with a sigh as a molten heat enveloped his shaft, watching as his lover tormented him with slow, gentle flicks of his tongue. Sam resolved to stay quiet, but the discovery that his husband had neither a need to breathe nor a gag reflex quickly spoiled that resolution. As his angel swallowed around him over and over, his tongue working the shaft and his hands seemingly everywhere at once, Sam let out a breathless moan that was apparently all the encouragement Gabriel needed.

Soon Sam was writhing on the bed, biting on his knuckles to contain his cries of pleasure, his entire body breaking out in a sheen of sweat, trembling on the cusp. and then… nothing, as Gabriel drew back with a smile that could only be described as wicked.

"My Sam, do you trust me? Will you grant me permission to pleasure you?" He nuzzled at the delicate skin of Sam's inner thigh, pulling a whimper that was nearly a sob from his lips. "Please, my Sam, _ol limlal, ol boaluahe. Dluga ol g laiad zuraah."_

Sam's mind tripped over the foreign sounds, though he'd learned some Enochian leading up to his nuptials. _Treasure, love... Grant me… "Layad zurah?"_ he repeated, guessing at the pronunciation. 

Gabriel gave him a heated glance. _"Laiad zuraah, g malprg."_ He bent and laved his way over Sam's most sensitive skin, his hidden entrance, and Sam blushed furiously at the implication of his husband's words, 'grant him' something something 'fire…' Gabriel drew back slightly, waiting for his answer, and Sam nodded, trusting and certain.

_"Noib. Noib, ol Gavriel."_ He pronounced clearly, using the archaic version of Gabriel's name with all the solemnity of a vow. Gabriel stared up at him, then his arms were full of angel, his lips taken passionately, and an ethereal blue light surrounded them. It swirled and ran over him in searching tendrils, trailing sparks of pleasure over his skin and leaving a fiery passion in its wake. 

" _Ol Sam,_ _noib, ol limlal,"_ Gabriel breathed, and the blue luminescence, his _lansh,_ his grace, Sam realized, slipped down between them to coil and circle his entrance. There was no pain, but suddenly that sparking heat was within him, and Sam cried out, arching from the down-filled mattress with a shout of Gabriel's name.

He could feel the coil of grace circling within him, searching, and with a sudden burst of white-hot pleasure, he moaned loudly as his body tightened. An unfamiliar, sensuous pressure began to build, and Sam moaned again, softly this time. Gabriel watched him with his whiskey-gold eyes gone dark with lustful determination, and rolled his hips against Sam's, sparking heat outside to match that within. Soon Sam was shaking and writhing with pleasure, on the cliff's edge before an indescribable plummet, and yet something was missing, something more…

"Gabriel, my own, beloved!" He was babbling, scarce aware of his words but determined in his message. "Take me, please!"

Gabriel near-collapsed against his throat, groaning softly as he ceased all motion, and his grace vanished from Sam's body. "Sam, my Sam, my treasure. Say it again, love," Gabriel demanded hoarsely, trembling like a leaf on the wind as he held himself still against Sam.

Sam fisted his hands in Gabriel's hair and pulled him up to meet his gaze, Gabriel's eyes shining like molten gold. "Pardon the crudity on our wedding night, but get your cock inside me, husband, and fuck me properly."

Gabriel's wings flared over them and he rolled his body against Sam's once, hard, as he bent to capture his lips. Slanting over them he delved into the passage of his mouth and plundered its depths, twining his tongue around Sam's and leaving him breathless. Pulling back, he murmured softly. "As you command, my own."

He hooked one of Sam's legs over his shoulder and there was a delicious pressure breaching him, accompanied by the most pleasurable burn he'd ever felt as his body stretched to accommodate Gabriel's substantial girth. He saw a spark of blue between them and the burn disappeared, followed by a glorious ache that slowly built higher and hotter. Sam’s hands found their way to Gabriel’s wings, grasping and tugging on his feathers, which set his lover rutting harder and faster until Sam thought he might be split in two by his ferocity. 

"Gabriel, please!" he cried, his hands finding a slick oil building among his wings and spreading it about as Gabriel shook above him. Gabriel rode him like a stallion, pounding into him mercilessly and biting at his chest and shoulders until Sam was a burning ache from neck to knee from the exquisite pain Gabriel inflicted upon him. "Gabriel, I’m so close, please my love, _please!"_

Gabriel gave a great shout, and his hand slapped down over Sam’s eyes as the room lit with an unearthly flash, his body stiffening against Sam’s and a scorching rush filling Sam to the brim until he spilled over, screaming Gabriel’s name. 

In the aftermath, they lay panting together as their heartbeats slowed, each taking gulping breaths and caressing the other slowly, gently, at great odds with the passion they’d just shared. And yet, Sam felt at peace both then and now, and he kissed his husband tenderly.

_"Ol malprg el,"_ Sam murmured, his mind strangely clear. He though let back to what Gabriel had called him and smiled softly. "Your treasure, am I?" he asked, amused and flattered at the endearment.

"And who was it who called me beloved out in the garden just hours past?" Gabriel teased as Sam felt a rush of heat spread up the column of his neck. 

"You are," he swore solemnly. "How are we to fix this? My father will never stop. Dean certainly would never forgive me, nor would your people, should they know what I tried to do. What if we cannot find Azazel? And is he working alone or working for another in his murderous intent?

"We’ll find him. Whether six months or sixty, I will not rest until we find that traitor." Gabriel vowed, kissing him gently as he snapped his fingers and cleansed their bodies, shrouding them in a light linen sheet against the night air. 

"My father may try to annul the marriage, but I won’t agree to that. I want you, Gabriel. I need you. My father has used his grief as a weapon since my mother died and tried to take me down the same path. My brother was too well taught by our mother, to love freely, but I… I had too few years with her. I don't know how you could forgive me so easily." Sam turned his gaze away, staring out the window into the night, hearing the distant sounds of revelry.

Gabriel cupped his cheek and turned him back, his golden gaze full of adoration and sincerity.

"Because I know your heart and it is genuine. You believed you had cause. Now that you know otherwise, and your ire is directed there. Try to forgive your father, I could only imagine his anguish. Let us speak of happier tidings. Our honeymoon is to commence in the morning. Where shall we go?"

"I'm to choose? But, is nothing planned then?" Sam asked, shocked.

"We'll be gone a month and we can go wherever you like, within safety's reason. I'd rather not visit the warzone between angels and demons, for instance."

Sam stared down at his lover in dismay. "Demons? They're real, then? My father never believed in them."

Gabriel shook his head, letting it fall against Sam's chest. "Of course they're real. Whom did you think the angelic forces were fighting? Humans? Beloved, you've no means to harm us. Demons, however, or the fallen angels who captain them, are more than capable of fighting us on relatively equal ground. Some more so than others."

"Let's avoid those during our honeymoon, shall we?" Sam agreed vehemently, shuddering at the thought of meeting a demon.

"Somewhere tropic, where we can walk along the shore unclothed, with no one the wiser? A stay in the mountains with nothing to do but share blankets by the fire for warmth?" Gabriel nibbled on Sam's earlobe, pulled a contented sigh from him.

"You've but one thing on your mind, haven't you, my Gabriel?" Sam remarked, turning to pull Gabriel tighter into his embrace and running his fingers over his wings lightly.

Gabriel met his gaze as solemnly as he could, though Sam grinned at the twinkle in his whiskey eyes. 

"What absolute rubbish!" he declared. "I've certainly more than one thing on my mind! For instance, next time I want _you_ to fill me, _ol limlal."_

Sam breath hitched for a moment, a spark of _want_ waking in him again, and he bent to meet Gabriel's lips with his own. "That could certainly be arranged, beloved," he whispered, then there was no further speech for some time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enochian phrases:
> 
> ol limlal, ol boaluahe: my treasure, my love
> 
> Dluga ol g laiad zuraah: grant me your secret passion
> 
> G malprg: your fire
> 
> Noib. Noib, ol Gavriel: yes. Yes, my Gavriel
> 
> Ol Sam, noib, ol limlal: my Sam, yes, my love
> 
> Lansh: power
> 
> Ol malprg el: my fiery one


	6. Chapter 5

A month later Sam and Gabriel returned from their honeymoon, to find a subdued Castiel lurking the halls of their home. 

"Dean's gone home. He couldn't put it off any longer, and your father is pressing him to marry. He can't tell him about me without risk of being disowned, though how John would explain when his second son is wed to our ruler, I don't know." Castiel shook with his shoulders slumped, his wings drooping, and Sam frowned. Surely there was something… After a moment he brightened and clapped a hand on Castiel's shoulder. 

"And if I, as my father's son, needed to send word home? Who might I trust but the very one who negotiated my nuptials? Come, sit with us in our suite, Castiel, we've some planning to do. And I've need of Dean's memory as well to hunt Azazel."

They walked together to the suite Sam and Gabriel would share now that they had returned, and with a wave of one hand, Gabriel lit the fire and filled fine crystal glasses for himself and Sam, and a pewter goblet for Castiel.

"You still prefer ambrosia, brother?" Gabriel asked, and Castiel nodded his thanks as he took the goblet and drank.

Sam inhaled the peaty smoke of the whiskey in his glass, then sipped gratefully. "Castiel, I do hope you took my meaning…"

Castiel nodded, swift understanding expressed in his eyes. “Your mother’s illness and death? Dean has strong memories of it. He still has nightmares of the one he calls Yellow Eyes. How is it you recall his name so clearly?"

Gabriel raised his eyebrows at Sam, encouraging him without a word. "My father. He is the one who brought Azazel in to heal my mother, and to this day believes Azazel was always an angel and was sent to sow dissent by murdering my mother."

"Partially true, as all the best lies often are. He was there to cause chaos and upheaval, and I'm certain if he'd had a chance he would have killed John as well. Though having John turn his back on his faith and in turn corrupting you, perhaps the chance at Dean as well, might well have been their plan all along," Castiel mused, his deep voice rasping and pensive. Clearly, he was as concerned for Dean as Sam was himself.

Gabriel sighed. "I told you I lost my brother archangels in the wars, tis true. But Raphael… he lives. And he covets power. If Azazel works for anyone with Lucifer long dead, it would be Raphael, promising him a return to paradise."

Sam choked on his drink and felt his eyes widen. "How could he promise such? Your Father is here, though He doesn't rule. How could Raphael hope to attain such power?"

Gabriel stood quickly and paced before the fire, his wings flaring and settling, then shifting again as Sam knew they did when he was disturbed. "Our Father granted us free will after the wars, for it was defiance of His will that led to Lucifer's fall. Luci was mad for power as well and slaying him killed Michael. My Father saw He had erred in keeping free will from the angels but could not forgive those such as Azazel who had fallen so far and work to corrupt all that is good. Raphael is nearly one such now in his quest for rule, but my Father will not oppose him."

Sam put the pieces together. "He'll try to take the throne from you." Gabriel nodded slowly, refusing to meet his eyes. Sam sprang to his feet, his anger overflowing. "He'll try to  _ kill _ you. Why now? Why involved my family at all?"

"No way to guess accurately, but in defiance of prophecy? Rebellion against our Father, who blessed our union? I know not." Gabriel's expression was grave, his lips downturned rather than curving in his usual smile. Sam stepped around the low table and grasped his lover by the shoulders. 

"Am I endangering you, beloved? Answer me truthfully," Sam ordered, and Gabriel met his gaze fiercely, his golden eyes flashing with determination.

"He was always going to come for me. You are but an excuse,  _ ol limlal." _

_ An excuse, _ Sam thought to himself.  _ A treasure, a trophy perhaps.  _ He staggered to his chair as a thought struck him. "Gabriel. Does the prophecy say I must wed you? Or simply the ruler? I’ve no wish to be used for your downfall,  _ ol malprg el." _

"It is getting late, and I thank you for the company." Castiel stood, clearly wishing to escape the impending marital dispute. Rather than make for the door, Castiel simply vanished, leaving Sam staring at Gabriel in dismay as he waited for his husband's response.

Gabriel stood by the fire, staring moodily into the flames, and Sam felt his anger building, now directed at his husband who was apparently keeping dangerous secrets.

"Gabriel, I thought we were past this but keeping a secret like this… you truly don't trust me at all, do you?" Sam felt hurt welling up in his heart, twisting his insides and making his hands shake. "I've spent the last month begging forgiveness, and you've told me there's nothing to forgive. How could you keep such from me?" Sam's shoulders slumped and he fought to swallow the burning tears suddenly welling in his eyes. He stood, staring at Gabriel, his back ramrod straight and unyielding, and turned away. "Goodnight Gabriel," he murmured and waited a beat for an answer. With none forthcoming he blinked rapidly and made for their bedroom, closing the door firmly before he let a single tear fall. He'd pride enough for that.

He sought their bed, alone and lonely, for the first time in a month without the hypnotic scent of his husband's wings unfolding him. It took him several hours to fall asleep, but Gabriel failed to join him before he finally drifted off, nor was he there when Sam awoke several hours later by the position of the moon beaming its light in through the open window to reveal the far too empty bed. Scalding tears slid from his eyes and into his hair as he stared out the window, but his sadness was slowly turning to anger again. 

How dare Gabriel treat him like this, like a child? Sam had made a grievous mistake the first day of their wedded life, but Gabriel had known it was coming and pledged to love and trust him despite that foreknowledge. Now he saw the worth of those words, and he wondered what other falsehoods Gabriel had spoken. 

Sam fell into a fitful, restless sleep, waking with eyes aching and his head throbbing miserably. It was intolerable, and there was his husband, sound asleep next to him. The conniving, lying bastard! Sam felt his temples throbbing with the force of his pulse pounding against his brain, and he winced even as he glared as the golden angel next to him. For once even Gabriel's rainstorm scent couldn't soothe him. 

Those golden eyes blinked awake then, and his husband smiled sleepily as he stretched. "Good morning,  _ limlal.  _ Did you sleep well? I hope I didn't waken you when I came to bed, I stayed up to speak to Castiel and our Father about your plan to use Castiel as a messenger to Dean. Well thought out, beloved."

Sam stared at him, fuming, until finally, Gabriel seemed to see him. " _ 'Limlal',  _ a prize for whoever holds the throne here? How dare you act as though nothing is wrong, Gabriel!" Sam spat, throwing back the blankets and quickly rolling out of bed to start pulling on clothes.

Gabriel stared at him a moment, then flashed out of the bed to stand before Sam, his wings fluttering nervously and his hands reaching for Sam before they fell to his sides. "I'm sorry, beloved. I should have told you about Raphael. The thought that he might take you from me… at first, before we met, yes, a strong part of the urgency behind the wedding was to cement that bond, with the prophecy in mind. But I should have warned you about my brother before now. He… he's mad for power, and I fear what he might do." Gabriel reached for Sam's cheek, his hand shaking, and he drew back again at Sam's glare. 

"You're afraid he'll try to kill you." Sam supplied, his hands tugging at his laces as he looked anywhere but at his lover, who had tumbled from the bed resplendently naked. "Well, we can't have that, he might succeed where I failed."

Gabriel flinched, then grasped Sam's hands, stilling them and forcing him to look down at the angel. "Beloved, my husband, listen to me. Yes, I fear what Raphael might do to me, and it would certainly end with my death. But what haunts me? What kept me from our bed last night when all I wanted was your arms, was the thought of what he might do to  _ you _ . He would torture you, beloved, and force you to submit. He is strong enough to do it without hesitation or remorse, and the thought of…" Gabriel shook his head, denying the thoughts that haunted his eyes. "The thought of my brother breaking you, turning you into a mindless pet as revenge against me? I couldn't bear it. I call you  _ limlal _ because you are my treasure, but it is the gift of your love that makes you so, not the possession of your body, as lovely as it is."

Sam felt his lips quirk in a tiny smile, and he knew he was on his way to forgiving Gabriel. Gabriel saw it as well and some of the tension seeped from his body, drawing Sam's eye. Gabriel rolled his shoulders deliberately, and Sam felt his ire turning to heat at a remarkable pace. Gabriel did know how to rile him. 

Taking a step closer, Sam crowded his smaller husband, who stared up at his wide-eyed until he recognized the look on Sam's face. He reached for Sam again, his body trembling when Sam gave a curt shake of his head. 

"For the misery you've caused me this night past, I do believe I'm owed a forfeit,  _ malprg,"  _ Sam commented, his voice a husky growl. Gabriel nodded desperately, and Sam gave a wicked smile, running his tongue over his lower lip in anticipation. "Do you agree, beloved? Use your words, for I've a mind to forbid you to make a sound until I'm done with you."

Gabriel bit back a moan but swayed on his feet. Sam caught it regardless, and he trailed his fingers down his own chest in a lazy caress, toying with his nipples as he waited for Gabriel to reply. His hand slid lower, grasping at the laces of his breeches, and tugging at them slowly, each pull moving the fabric over his swiftly hardening shaft. Still, he waited. With a final pull, the knot slipped loose and he let his breeches slide to the floor with a gentle rustle, and Gabriel's eyes dropped immediately, his breath catching.

"Well,  _ ol malprg _ ? Do you accept?"

Gabriel gave a sharp nod, his barely breathed answer nearly lost in the susurration of his wings. "Aye, beloved. Please…"

Sam scooped the smaller man into his arms and spun them, crawling up onto the bed until he put Gabriel down where he wanted him. He set Gabriel's hands against the headboard and gave him a stern look. "Don't move, beloved."

Gabriel opened his mouth to protest, and Sam merely gave him a  _ look _ , and his teeth cracked as he snapped his jaw shut again.

Sam crawled down the bed and deliberately met Gabriel's eyes as he hooked his thighs over his shoulders and blew hotly over his already leaking shaft. "I do so love the advantages of an angelic lover, beloved. Cleanliness is next to godliness and all that."

Gabriel's eyes widened in protest, for they'd discussed quite early on that Sam's use of sacrilegious profanity in the bedchamber was drawing his Father's eye, but Sam merely gave him an amused glance, then bent to slide his lips over the tightly furled bud of Gabriel's entrance, which loosened as Sam applied his tongue wantonly. Gabriel's breathing deepened as Sam toyed with him, slowly, sensuously opening him for Sam's pleasure, and Sam gave a heated stare up his body when a hitched breath bordered on a whimper. 

"Pass me the rose oil, Gabriel," Sam instructed, slicking his fingers and coating his reddened shaft when his husband speedily complied. "Leave this to me, Gabriel, do you understand?"

Gabriel nodded frantically and grabbed a bit of the sheet, shoving it between his teeth before he set his hands back against the headboard of the carved mahogany frame. Sam pressed against the still tight entrance slowly and gave a loud groan of pleasure as he sank past the first rim. Gabriel quaked underneath him, his eyes popping wide and his jaw working as he clamped down on the bit of fabric between his teeth. 

Sam smiled then, and Gabriel's eyes darkened in helpless arousal as he hooked Gabriel's hips up in his large hands, and massaging his firm cheeks, angled him just  _ so _ as he clambered to his knees. Sam pressed slowly into Gabriel's core, and there was a loud exhalation from his husband telling Sam he was right on the mark. Drawing back as slowly, he made certain to find the spot over and over again, his thrusts slowly speeding until he was driving into his lover, Gabriel's name falling from Sam's lips endlessly as he drove them both closer and closer to the edge.

With a final twist and thrust of Sam's hips, Gabriel's silence broke with a wail as his spend released from his throbbing shaft in endless spurts over his chest. Sam stilled as he emptied himself into his husband, his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat as he panted. 

"You…" he gasped, then swallowed against the dryness in his throat. "You lose. And now you owe me another forfeit."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enochian phrases:
> 
> Ol limlal: my treasure
> 
> Ol malprg el: my fiery one
> 
> Limlal: treasure
> 
> Malprg: fire


	7. Chapter 6

Three months later it was as though every nightmare Sam had ever had came true. His father was pressing cautiously for news, but Sam knew that any mention at all was not a good sign. They'd tracked Azazel's movements as best they might after so many years, but the spotty memories of an eight-year-old, and the scarcely better ones of his then twelve-year-old brother were more than a little stale, and in Sam's case, corrupted by his father's desperate agenda for revenge. 

Then, a bare four months after they'd wed, a messenger arrived for Gabriel. The man was human, but Gabriel eyed him warily, which set Sam watching carefully. He was short, with thinning dark hair and a slight paunch under his expertly tailored clothing, all of a sable hue. He spoke with an accent that Sam placed as from across the sea, but his cultured, refined tones did little to disguise the threat he carried for his master Raphael, nor did they soften the demand that Sam be turned over.

When Gabriel stood and swept his wings out in anger the urbane man merely smiled softly, a faint twist of his lips that showed clearly behind his neatly trimmed moustache and beard.

"Very well, darlings, I see there's no sense continuing these deliberations. A shame, really." He stood and slipped a hand into one pocket, tilting his head back to look down at Gabriel, though they were much of a height. "I am to be allowed to return to Raphael with your refusal, of course? How would it look to your pet… Excuse me, to your husband's father should a human messenger be killed by angels?"

"You're scarce that, fiend," Gabriel snapped, and Sam watched his husband with eyes wide. "Your soul is sold, and that claim shall come due one day quite soon, I should think. It hangs over you like a tainted shadow. You'll regret your bargain when the black hounds are upon you."

The man seemed unconcerned and lifted one shoulder in a dismissive gesture that infuriated Sam. "You've no idea the measure I've gained. Perhaps I'll rule in Hell one day." He flicked a glance at Sam and Sam fought to hide a shudder at the death he saw there. "Ta, gentlemen."

The messenger turned, walking from the room as though he'd not a care in the world. And Gabriel's hands clenched in impotent fury, for the demon was correct of course. They could no more slay a messenger sent in good faith, no matter how distasteful the message, than Sam could complete his mission.

That night Sam begged Gabriel to send him away, but Gabriel pointed out that apart he'd be incapable of protecting Sam. He held Sam fiercely, his wings shaking as they sheltered Sam that night, and when they came together in their passion, there was a desperation to their touches that left Sam gasping and near tears, and they clung to each other throughout the night. 

Sam woke with his eyes gritty and his head pounding, and Gabriel looked scarce better. His lover bent and laid a gentle kiss upon his crown, and with a small spark of grace Sam's headache was gone, leaving him clear-minded for the first time since the loathsome messenger brought the fallen archangel's ultimatum. He had the solution that would keep Gabriel safe if only he could manage it. He would need his brother's assistance, as well as that of Castiel. Gabriel he couldn't tell; for his plan to have a hope of success, all must act as naturally as possible. Meeting his lover's eyes, he pressed a heartfelt kiss to his lips.

"It will be alright, Gabriel. We will make this work." Gabriel looked at him helplessly for a moment and Sam embraced his husband. "Trust in me, beloved. Raphael will be defeated."

***

"Castiel, a word." Sam set his plan in motion later that day, and though Castiel was loathe to keep secrets from his brother and ruler, he saw Sam's solution as the only way. As he vanished to communicate with Dean and his father, he only hoped they would forgive him his deception. For the first time in many years, he prayed in the silence of his mind. A moment later, a gentle voice came to him from behind and unsurprised, he turned.

"You're certain of this plan, my son?" That God chose to address him so warmed his heart but also stiffened his resolve. 

"I am. I fear subterfuge will be the only way to defeat Raphael, and that it must fall upon myself to take the risk. Gabriel is needed far more than I."

"Have you given thought to how your loss might affect him? I have seen my son's heart and it is wholly yours." 

Sam swallowed his grief, his eyes burning as he hung his head before the all-knowing eyes of the deity before him. "And can You see mine?"

"Indeed. To separate the two of you in death… You truly see no other path before you?" He asked, and Sam blinked back tears as he shook his head.

"I believe there to be no other way. None that have this chance of succeeding, Father. Please, I beg of you to take care of my beloved when I'm gone."

God nodded His head slowly. "I will see to it he has everything he needs to heal. In time he'll forgive you your subterfuge. Very well, I'll assist as I can, and make certain the blade you require is in your hands. My son would not be fooled otherwise, for the blades are made with pieces of grace, and he would recognize that the one he carried was not his own."

"Then I'd best speak to… to my husband." Sam swallowed harshly and bowed his head to the deity before him. "Thank you. And please, don't let him suffer; You must be able to ensure his happiness."

God nodded his sandy head and gave a secretive smile. "I've something in mind already."

***

Sam immersed himself in his plans, then finding Gabriel, he asked him softly to join him in their quarters that they might discuss something in private.

"Yes,  _ ol limlal?" _ Gabriel spoke softly and dropped onto Sam's lap as they sat by the fireplace. Sam knew he had to tell just enough truth to disguise the lies and hoped one day his lover might forgive him his breach of trust.

"I’ve a request to make of you. And I’ll tell you the reason behind it,  _ malprg _ . I’ve a plan to defeat Raphael; it relies on deceit and obfuscation, but I believe it to be our only hope." Sam drew a deep breath then continued. "We send Castiel with word that we wish to parlay and, when Raphael arrives, I agree to surrender but on the condition he doesn't harm you."

Gabriel leapt to his feet and spun to glare down at him, his wings snapping in his agitation. "Never! Sam, my Sam, you've no idea what he would do to you, to your mind, he would torture you within it and leave you a husk. Do not ask this of me,  _ limlal,  _ I beg of you!"

"Gabriel, please, listen. I've need of your blade. If he believes I plan to surrender, I would be able to approach him." Sam spoke quickly, attempting to share the details and set his beloved's mind at ease. "I plan to put a blade through his heart. And if I fail, have Castiel at hand to follow through."

"There is a flaw in your plan beloved. He would be able to sense my blade upon you and know the surrender for false," Gabriel argued, and Sam shook his head, reaching for his husband's hand.

"And if your Father were to aid in hiding your blade, that the plan might have a chance?" Sam asked, watching Gabriel carefully. He exploded.

"Am I the last to know of your plans then? You’ve consulted with him already, haven’t you? Have you no reckoning of the danger? Raphael could snuff out your life in an instant. He could twist your mind and leave you a drooling child. He could make you believe you loved him."

"I doubt that very much,  _ malprg, _ for my heart is entirely yours." Gabriel stared at him helplessly, then with a beat of his wings met Sam in the middle of the chamber and swept them out into the Garden to their glade. Gabriel was frantic, desperately tearing the clothes from Sam with little finesse and much passion, preparing him abruptly and sinking into him, mouthing at his throat and swearing his love and devotion, begging Sam to reconsider his plan. Sam met him thrust for thrust, his hands clutching as desperately, hiding his anguish in passionate kisses that left the archangel breathless and keening, rolling them so he sat astride his beloved and pumping his hips. 

Sam's release was coiling tighter and more heated by the moment, and as Gabriel grasped his waist in his strong hands and flipped them to rise above him, his wings spread wide, Sam cried out his lover's name. He tangled his hands amongst Gabriel's golden feathers, his head thrown back in ecstasy as Gabriel moved within him, his shortened breaths telling him his angel was nearing his peak as well. Sam felt that coiled ball of fire explode within him, and he sobbed a wordless exclamation of pleasure as Gabriel froze above him, shutting his eyes against the brilliant flash of light that signalled his beloved's release. 

Quaking in the aftermath, Sam stroked his fingers through Gabriel's wings, petting softly until they ceased their trembling, a soft breeze whispering through the trees surrounding them.

_ "Ol limlal, ol boaluahe g," _ Gabriel breathed against Sam's hair, and Sam pulled him close.

"And I love you, my Gabriel. No matter what passes, remember that. I know my plan has its risks but defeating Raphael, ensuring the safety of our people… I believe it to be worth the … potential cost." Sam's fingers hesitated as he spoke, and Gabriel stared down at him. 

"You believe that, 'knowing the plan has its risks.' Sam, my heart, he could do so much worse than  _ kill _ you. I cannot lose you,  _ ol limlal, _ I would rather die myself." Gabriel muttered against his hair, his wings curving in to hide them, their warmth surrounding Sam even as the sweat dried on their bodies. He drew back to stare down at Sam fiercely. "I'd sever my wings myself to keep you with me."

"And what would happen to the angels, with Raphael to rule over them? What would happen to mankind, with Raphael spurring the angels and controlling the Fallen legions?" Sam used every bit of ruthless logic in his arsenal to sway his lover, and when he saw Gabriel's resolve faltering, he kissed him softly, using every trick and caress he'd learned would best distract his husband to lead him from further thoughts of his plan for now.

It was some time before they left the glade again, and they retired immediately to their chambers for a private dinner. Plying Gabriel with wine and small delicacies fed by hand, Sam seduced him, body and mind, until they tumbled exhausted into sleep.

The following morning dawned and Sam woke alone in their bed, Gabriel sitting on the balcony of their suite, his face turned up to the sun. Sam wrapped his arms around his smaller husband, nuzzling at his throat. Sam locked away his melancholy thoughts and laid a gentle kiss to Gabriel's shoulder before straightening and pulling him back against his chest. Gabriel vanished his wings at the last second to spare Sam the mouthful of feathers he'd have gotten, but Sam could still feel their energy about him, or perhaps that was simply Gabriel himself.

"Sam…" Gabriel sighed his name, a plea, or a prayer, he didn't know. "There's something about your plan that sits ill with me, but I spoke to my Father this morning and He told me He agrees with you. Castiel returns this afternoon from visiting Dean and I'll speak to him to enlist his aid. The fewer who know, the fewer who could inadvertently reveal the plan. We'll…" He paused, seeming to choke on the words for a moment. "We'll send Raphael our conditional surrender. Ugh, I do hope he won't return with that odious man. Though I suppose there is always someone worse or more dangerous."

"Bite your tongue, beloved," Sam teased. "Or I'll do it for you. Raphael is enemy enough."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enochian:
> 
> Ol limlal: my treasure
> 
> Malprg: fire


	8. Chapter 7

Sam and Gabriel spent as much time together as they could in the week leading up to the trap for Raphael. Gabriel feared what could happen and Sam knew all too well. He kept his secrets, however, and put on a brave face for his love, knowing Gabriel would never allow him to do what he must and would most likely perish in attempting to circumvent his plan.

Each night they retired early, and Gabriel spoke to Castiel for an hour or two on matters of statecraft, should the worst happen and Raphael turn their trap about on them. As the ruler, Gabriel would be there. Castiel was to bear to witness, with Sam in attendance as the symbol of surrender. Raphael was to bring a single attendant. If he attempted a larger group, they were to be refused entry, and the surrender would be reneged.

Having set up as many safeguards as possible, they could only wait. Sam spent each night enfolded in Gabriel’s arms, stealing as many moments and trading as many kisses as possible. Their embraces ranged from passionate to tender but always fueled by a desperate awareness of time counting down, like grains of sand slipping through their fingers.

The day arrived, and once again Sam was dressed in his white raiment from their wedding day, his silver circlet adorning his brow. Gabriel wore plainer clothes, simple buckskin trews and a silken shirt open at the collar to reveal a torc of royalty. Castiel wore black and stood both armed and armoured, though his angel blade would be no threat to Raphael, nor even slow him down. 

Raphael appeared before the gates with a great clap of thunder, his wings manifest as caged lightning, and Gabriel muttered in an aside to his husband. 

"Always the power display, such a gratuitous waste."

Sam looked at his  _ malprg  _ in surprise. "'Tis not the true semblance of his wings?"

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Not in the slightest, but he's never been overly fond of the peacock colours he was granted."

Sam snorted a small laugh which he turned into a cough, but still, it drew the eye of Raphael, as well as the small urbane man at his side, who'd returned at his master's side.

"Why would he waste the power?" Sam murmured curiously out the side of his mouth, and Gabriel touched his hand softly.

"He believes beauty to be a waste, only power to have its place. Show yourself to be beautiful but weak, he will dismiss you." Gabriel eyed his husband, and Sam took in his words carefully. "He will always view a human as weak,  _ limlal." _

Sam had no chance to reply, for the gate opened and they stepped out with Castiel to stand before Raphael and the fallen human, Crowley. Crowley's eyes flashed red, and Sam fought to hide a shudder, the man was of the demonic horde now, and the very presence of one such made his skin itch. Raphael eyed him and Sam adopted a vapid expression, his hand clutching at Gabriel's in desperation. Truly the lovely treasure but of little mettle.

Raphael's eyes went to his brother's, dismissing Sam, and Sam allowed himself the barest eye flicker of triumph. There was no sign that aught was amiss with their plan, and with Crowley's words of his own ambition to rise in power in his mind, he flicked a glance at the small man, who watched him carefully. Crowley wasn't fooled, but the question would be whether he would protect his master or serve his own interests.

Gabriel pulled Sam's hands loose and shoved him forward, and Sam stumbled to the ground, knowing his breeches would be scuffed and torn by the flagstones, and his hands bore the sign of the impact as well. Staying on his knees, Sam began his part.

"My great Lord Raphael, Archangel and Ruler, I offer myself to you. I ask only that you spare my people the war that has ruined countless lives." He gave a desperate glance over his shoulder to Gabriel, whose expression remained stoic. "Also, please. Spare my Lord Gabriel. He has agreed to release me from our wedded vows, but he has treated me well. Let him live."

Raphael stared down at him as though he were an insect, one that had caught his attention but that he might yet crush under his heel. "Angels may not forfeit their wedded vows once consummated. The only way you will be free to wed me, is with Gabriel dead. Or did he forget to tell you this when he offered you up?"

Sam's mind reeled, and he stared at Raphael in horror. Bracing himself for the worst, he spoke carefully. "I never knew why he would not lay with me, my Lord," he whispered, his mind whirling, and lying for more time to think. Gabriel had promised him once to give him the means to walk away from their vows, had he truly meant to allow himself to be killed if Sam had wanted to leave him? Shaking his head, he continued breathlessly, his heart aching. "He simply told me I wasn't to his taste and has kept me aside. I have here his blade, which he told me would sever our marriage should I repeat the vows with another of his strength. Surely you, my Lord, are more than his match."

Raphael's dark gaze whipped to Sam and he loomed over him, his wings crackling with energy. Sam cowered before him and nodded. "You've my brother's blade upon you? He gave it to you, leaving himself defenceless?" 

"Not at all. I've our faith in our Father that I'll not be harmed this day." Gabriel spoke airily, inspecting his nails and sparing barely a glance for his brother. "Honestly I'm bored ruling. Our baby brother Cassie here would make a better ruler than I, at least he has the dignified manner of a statesman. I could care less for all the tedious nonsense. Leave me be and take the boy."

Raphael watched his brother warily and flicked a glance towards Castiel. Clearly dismissing him as a threat, he walked forward until he cupped Sam's face roughly. "Show me the blade," he ordered. "If my brother has relinquished that to a mortal, then I'll believe he intends to step down."

Sam pulled it clumsily from his back and held it up on an open palm, praying to God that the disguise held. Raphael palmed the weapon warily, and his eyes blazed, and he drew the tip over Sam's cheek suddenly, causing him to cry out in shocked agony as it burned him, slicing easily into his skin.

"You coward," he flung at Gabriel, "you never deserved the throne. That you would give it up so easily is all the proof I need to know that for truth." Spinning the blade in his hand dexterously, he handed it to Sam. "You will proceed in severing the vows. Know that I will not leave you untouched. I've no desire for you, but no one will threaten my rule."

Shuddering slightly at the thought of laying with Raphael and his casual cruelty, Sam carefully took the blade. Castiel was nearly in position but Sam had to find a way to stall. 

Holding the blade to his wrist where he and Gabriel carried matching scars, he drew the blade in a fine line of fire, and he gasped as a faint blue light leaked from the wound. "What…?" 

"His grace in you, or did you think the sharing of blood so casual?" Raphael sneered.

Castiel was edging into place but he wasn't there yet. Sam cautiously turned the knife as though to present it to Raphael and as he watched Castiel step into place. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Crowley opening his mouth to warn his master.  _ Too late. _

Sam could never allow himself to be used by Raphael, and he set his last desperate plan into motion. As Raphael caught the flash of motion and started to turn toward Castiel, Sam pressed the blade into his hand and lunged forward, embedding it into his own heart. A great roaring sounded in his ears, then a scream of rage and loss from Raphael as he realized his goal was lost to him. In his shock, he turned his back to Castiel again, and the warrior struck with Gabriel's hidden, borrowed blade, even as he stared at Sam in horror at the sight of his own blade buried in Sam's chest, his blade piercing the heart of his husband's brother. Raphael fell at Sam's feet, the archangel blade buried deep in his heart, killing him instantly. Sam's vision went dark, and the last he heard was the desperate cry of despair from his husband.


	9. Chapter 8

**"No!"** Gabriel winged to Sam's side, pulling the blade loose and pressing his fingers over the wound, a great glow surrounding him as he tried to save his husband's life.

"Gabriel, forgive me," Castiel whispered. "He kept his plan from me as well. I'd never have agreed to this!"

Gabriel ignored his brother, praying desperately, screaming in his own mind.

**_FATHER!!_ **

"I'm here, my son," He spoke, appearing before them, and he banished the demon Crowley with a glance. "Heed me well. You've the power to save him and only you. You said you would sever your wings for him, but did you mean those words? For it will take all of your grace to heal him of a wound such as this, and you would be mortal."

"Gabriel, you can't, who would lead us?" Castiel stared. "Please, I understand the love you bear him, but--"

"Would you not sacrifice yourself and the world itself to save Dean were he so stricken?" Castiel's lips snapped shut, a look of shame crossing his face. "Pray that it never happens, for you will be our ruler now, Castiel. Our Father has agreed to this measure, and you will rule us now. And behold, House of Winchester is still joined with that of Angels, leaving the prophecy intact."

***

A great golden light flared before his eyes, and Sam lay upon the ground uninjured, save his cheek ached. Gabriel stood before him, smaller somehow. Gabriel traced a gentle finger over his cheek at Sam winced at the touch.

"Forgive me,  _ ol limlal.  _ I'd not the strength to spare to heal this." Gabriel's voice was weary and Sam saw fatigue in his eyes, the way he stood, the way his shoulders slumped as though under a great weight.

"I'm told scars are dashing… but Gabriel, how am I standing? And what ails you,  _ ol malprg?  _ Though not an archangel's blade, I should not have survived Castiel's blade." He saw Gabriel sway and caught him in his arms as he stumbled. His eyes flew to Castiel, who stared at him with a look mixed of anger, loss, and somehow, pride.

"My brother Fell for you. You call him your fire, but his _lansh,_ his Grace is gone, spent to save you. He no longer rules, I do." Castiel's visage was stern, his blue eyes as hard as agates as he stared at Sam, and he flinched under that gaze.

"Gabriel, forgive me… how could you give up everything for me, my love?" Sam whispered, scooping his husband into his arms tenderly, easily lifting his small frame. 

Moving quickly, he carried his mortal husband to their chambers, ignoring all the shocked glances and whispers that followed behind him. Balthazar met him as he crossed the great hall and though he stared, he fell in step quickly. 

"What does he need?" The angel's saturnine features showed only concern, and Sam nodded at him to follow. Pushing open the door to their chambers, he jerked his head toward the fireplace and Balthazar nodded, lighting the logs with a thought. "What else can I do to help?"

"He'll need food, water, and rest. I can't tell if he's been injured, or is simply exhausted, but… his  _ lansh  _ is gone. He's mortal." Balthazar's head snapped around and he raised an eyebrow.

"I beg your pardon?" Balthazar's tone was as courteous as ever, but his question spoke volumes. Sam ignored him for the moment and bundled his now shivering spouse into one of his own woollen shirts. Wrapping Gabriel tightly in a thick blanket as well, he set him before the fire and chafed his hands, which were cold and trembling.

"Gabriel?  _ Ol malprg, ol boaluahe,  _ please, come back to me, love." Gabriel's eyes were dulled and glazed, and Sam poured a glass of whiskey and downed it, then poured a second and set it down before Gabriel. Balthazar laid a palm over Gabriel's eyes and closed his own, his grace surrounding him in a cool blue light as he searched his stricken brother for injury. 

"You died!" Balthazar's eyes snapped open and his blue gaze found Sam's shocked expression. "That was your intention, was it not, when you drove yourself onto that blade?"

"Rather than submit to Raphael and hand over the throne in one fell swoop? Wouldn't you, if you had  _ no _ other means of fighting him?" Sam stared him down, and Balthazar gave a slow nod.

"A type of fierce and foolish courage, that. But this… we'll have to see how Gabby feels when he rejoins us. I've put him to sleep for a while, to let him rest and grow accustomed to being mortal. I'll send up some food if you like. Stay with him."

Sam stared at his lover, his face ashen and drawn, and blinked back tears. "For all of our days."


	10. Chapter 9

Gabriel adapted to humanity, though it was difficult. The loss of his  _ lansh  _ was something he'd never anticipated. The loss of his wings, however, was like a wound that never healed, leaving him aching and restless, staring at the sky. Those nights Sam would enfold his beloved in his arms, and hold him close, whispering his love and devotion. At times, Gabriel pulled away to pace the floor of their cottage, where they lived now, away from other angels and the painful reminder of his loss. Gabriel said he preferred to focus on what he'd gained.

The first night after they arrived at the cottage, Gabriel had turned to Sam desperately, clinging and pulling at his clothes.

"Easy,  _ malprg. _ Are you sure?" Sam asked softly. "You've pulled away 'til now."

"Do you love me,  _ ol limlal?" _ Gabriel asked, still attacking buttons and ties and reaching for the skin beneath.

"With everything that I am, beloved. Do you doubt?" Sam queried, stilling Gabriel's hands on his chest.

"No, my own. But now I need you. Make love to me, Sam, please!"

Sam bent and pressed his lips to his lover's, starting slow and gentle as Gabriel pushed for fast and frantic.

"Easy, beloved. If you wish to give control to me, you must relinquish it yourself," Sam reminded him, and Gabriel slumped against him, drawing a shaking breath as he trembled.

"Show me that there is some fire left, that I'm not broken,  _ ol limlal."  _ Gabriel's voice was soft and unsure, and it pained Sam to hear it. He bent and scooped his lover into his arms, holding him tenderly and kissing him softly. He carried him to their new bedchamber and laid him on the bed with its woollen quilt for warmth. 

Sam took his time lighting the fire in the hearth and closed the shutters to ward off any chill. Gabriel was more susceptible to the cold than any could have anticipated, and Sam did his best to keep him warm. He set a vial of rose oil closer to the fire to warm and slowly undressed his husband, placing gentle kisses over every bit of skin revealed. Gabriel trembled under his touch and reached for Sam several times, but each time Sam gentled his touch and hushed his lover, kissing his lips softly until Gabriel seemed near tears.

"Please, beloved," Gabriel whispered. "Please."

Sam bent and kissed him tenderly once more, then slowly slid down his body, his hazel eyes staring up the length of Gabriel's body as he moved. He nuzzled against Gabriel's hardened length, and his hands moved lower, teasing, kneading at his flesh until Gabriel spread for him, exposing himself. Sam picked up the vial of oil and slicked his fingers carefully, then slowly teased them over Gabriel's entrance. He circled slowly, lightly, until Gabriel was pleading for more, then carefully pressed in a single digit. Gabriel hissed at the slight burn, then relaxed, melting under Sam's touch as he bent and trailed gentle kisses over his hip. 

"That's it,  _ malprg,  _ take them slowly, just like that, beloved." Sam was murmuring endearments against his skin as his fingers continued to tease and torment. Sucking on the tender skin at Gabriel's hip, Sam introduced a second finger even as his husband was crying out and bucking under his hands. "There, love," he whispered, crooking his fingers and searching for the sweet spot inside Gabriel. 

Gabriel was on his elbows, watching him, his eyes blown dark with arousal when they widened and he fell back amongst the pillows with a moan, his whiskey-gold eyes rolling back under fluttering lashes. 

Sam gave a low chuckle of approval, and skimmed the pads of his fingers back and forth inside Gabriel's heat, drawing a soft whine from his lover. "There it is. Take your pleasure, my heart. You are. I gave up my own heart to see Raphael defeated, and you replaced it when you healed me. I'm yours, body and soul, Gabriel."

Gabriel made to answer, but as Sam continued to play his fingers slowly in and out of his body, all that escaped him was a pitiful mewling sound. Sam stared up Gabriel's body, his limbs trembling, his head thrashing on the pillow as Sam's name spilled from his lips over and over like a prayer, a plea. Sam could feel his control slipping and slowly slipped his fingers from his lover, leaving him whining softly as he crawled up to kiss him softly.

"Sam,  _ limlal! _ Please!" Gabriel begged against his lips, his voice cracking with emotion. "I need you!"

Sam nuzzled at his throat as he slicked his shaft with the rose oil and lined up carefully. "You have me, beloved," he reassured him in a whisper, even as he slowly pressing past the tight ring of muscle. The lovers froze, Sam with a groan as he fought the urge to plunge quickly into Gabriel's heat as he'd always done in the past. He moved slowly, then stopped again at a low hiss from his lover. 

"Sam, it feels…  _ oh!"  _ he gasped and his body tightened around Sam for a moment, pulling a whimper from him as he held onto his control desperately.

Sam slowly, achingly slid forward, sweat dripping from his brow as he finally seated himself in Gabriel's depths, both trembling fiercely. Sam lifted his head from the silken curve Gabriel's throat and kissed his husband softly, then began to move. He kept the pace slow and gentle but still felt Gabriel shaking all the while. His golden lover clung to his shoulders, then suddenly wrapped his legs around Sam's hips and rocked against him, urging him on with wordless murmurs and desperate kisses. Sam shook as he attempted to restrain himself, unwilling to harm his beloved, but his hips snapped forward faster and harder of their own volition as Gabriel tightened about him.

"Gabriel, gently love, I wish to pleasure you as long as I may…" he groaned, and Gabriel tilted his head up and nipped at his lower lip lightly.

"It would cause me  _ great _ pleasure if you would move faster, my own. I may--" He hesitated, his eyes closing in remembered loss, then met Sam's gaze firmly. "I may no longer be angelic, but I won't break." Sam gave a soft growl and slid his arms about his lover's shoulders, pulling him down with every thrust of his hips, and soon Gabriel was beyond words, his hands grasping at hips, shoulders, tangled in Sam's hair; always moving, searching for a way to ground himself as his husband ploughed into him repeatedly. The heat of his release was building and Gabriel moaned Sam's name, a stream of Enochian spilling from his lips in a fluid tumble. 

Sam bit his lip, desperate to hold back his own release, fighting as the inexorable wave crashed over him, only to feel Gabriel clenching like a fist around him as he shouted through his own climax. Panting, Sam caught himself before he crushed his smaller lover, their lips sliding over each other in breathless kisses. 

_ "Ol boaluahe g, limlal." _ Gabe sighed endearments against Sam's skin, holding him closely. "Thank you, my heart."

"For making love to you?" Sam asked, his tone light and teasing, but his gaze was warm as he traced Gabriel's features with a gentle touch. 

"Mmmm. I feared you wouldn’t want me… Foolish, I know. But…" Gabriel glanced away. "I am far less than I once was."

"You are a fool indeed, Gabriel. You are my beloved, my husband, my fiery one. And that has always been about your spirit, not your  _ lansh.  _ I swore myself to you. Not at our wedding, and it pains me that I took those vows so lightly, so intent on betraying them. But in the months since, my dearest, you have shown me courage and strength beyond any I have seen." Sam watched him for a moment then let a smile creep across his face. "I also love watching you blush, which is far easier to cause now that you're human, my love." Sam's eyes darkened then in memory and he rolled onto his side, pulling Gabriel against his chest to hold him tightly.

"What is it?" Gabriel asked, and Sam drew a deep breath.   
  
"Raphael. He said that angels cannot annul a marriage, that the only way is through death. You once told me you would free me from the vows should I ask it. Did you think to kill me? I'd have deserved it…"

Gabriel's breath left him in a rush, and he was left gaping, gasping. Finally, he spoke, his voice wretched. "Never, Sam. If you could see your soul, beloved. It is such a beautiful light, how could I extinguish it? No, I…" He looked away. "I could never."

"You meant to die yourself. Why? Beloved, you were the ruler then, how could I have meant so much that you would leave your people without a guardian against Raphael?" Sam was horrified and clutched his husband tighter.

Gabriel caressed his cheek softly. "I fell in love with your soul the moment I saw it in the chapel,  _ limlal. _ I could no more harm you than I could murder a babe in its mother’s arms. I gave up my  _ lansh  _ and my wings to have you safe with me. I would die myself before I let anything harm you again."

Sam shook his head, fear and love pounding through his veins. "And if you were to die and leave me alone? What purpose to my life then?"

A flash of light burst through the room and God stood at the foot of their bed. Sam scrambled for a sheet but Gabriel merely nodded at his Father. 

"Please, the two of you must  _ cease _ this self-sacrificing drivel! I meant to play this out for a year, but I've scarce had a moment's peace from either of you in months. I bloody yield to the inevitable!"

He gave a wave of His hand, and Sam collapsed on the bed in excruciating pain, even as he saw… no,  _ saw _ Gabriel's transformation. His core bloomed with light, and suddenly his wings, those glorious, golden wings sprouted from his back once more. Sam could barely fathom it, but his mind was focused on sights and sounds he'd never heard, colours he'd never seen, and a raw power that filled him until it boiled over and he screamed. 

The room lit with blue fire, brighter than the noonday sun, and the windows shattered. Sam rolled onto his back and cried out again, his back in an agony of fire and stabbing pain when suddenly it vanished as though it had never been. Sitting up carefully, he panted for breath and turned to Gabriel, who for the first time in their marriage was struck dumb.

Sam reached for his beloved, wrapping his arms tightly about him in comfort, murmuring softly. "I'm alright,  _ malprg,"  _ he promised, his feathers stroking against Gabriel's in tender support.  _ My…  _ **_My_ ** _ feathers?! _

"'Til death do you part' has little meaning to those who will not age. I trust this caterwauling will cease?" God stared at them, looking exasperated and annoyed, and Sam nodded silently, while Gabriel spoke softly.

"Yes, Father. Thank you for this blessing."

"You idiot, you thought a wound by Castiel's blade could injure him so severely? That it would take your  _ lansh  _ permanently?" God shook His head. "Now I've had enough, and I'm off to see Castiel. You've a day or two, then you must return to lead. Castiel will be joining his husband."

Sam startled. "What of my father? He will not stand for his heir wedded to an angel."

"You've a half brother, he will inherit when Dean and Castiel wish to leave. But your father… I'm sorry Sam. He had an apoplexy when Dean told him the truth, and that he would under no circumstances give up Castiel. Your brother needs your support, he blames himself."

Gabriel caught Sam as he sagged, his wings flowing around him in a familiar soft cloak. "My… my father is dead?"

"Dying. You've time for a farewell if you wish but know that his heart has not changed, despite the defeat of Raphael and the hunt for Azazel."


	11. Epilogue

Sam stood at Dean's side as they buried their father, his wings hidden for now to avoid disturbing the populace, but Sam could feel them like a weight, a sparking heat at his back. Gabriel's wing was slung around him in support, and with each breath, Sam could feel their feathers brushing against each other in soothing comfort.

John of House Winchester had been beyond speech when Sam and Gabriel arrived, his voice stolen by the stroke that took his life within the week. Sam took great care to hide his new nature from his father, and simply held his hand and promised him that Azazel had nowhere to run, he would be found and pay for their mother's death.

John's eyes had burned hatred at his middle son, flicking to Gabriel and away. After that, he refused to look at Sam again, and Sam eventually left the room until the call came that it was time. 

King John of Winchester breathed his last with his sons in attendance, though the youngest, Adam, was scarce more than a youth. Dean had taken him under his proverbial wing however and would see him well educated. Castiel had told him that when the time came, they could return to the city of Angels, and God would grant the same to Dean as he had to Sam: an eternity with his beloved.

Meanwhile, the priest droned on about familial duty and last wishes, and Dean sent his brother a sharp look. Sam was at peace that his life was finally his own, however, and his father’s legacy of hatred for angels had died with him. 

When the funeral dirge at last played, Sam and Gabriel stayed by the pyre with Dean and Castiel, waiting as the rest of the mourners left. Adam stood to one side, looking terribly young and more than a little lost in his mourning black. 

Dean and Sam embraced, and Sam stepped back to Gabriel's side, waving to Castiel before they blinked away, flying in a heartbeat to their chamber in the Angelic stronghold. They stood on the balcony watching the sun set, and Sam spread his auburn wings, tangling them with Gabriel's sun-gilt feathers in a gentle caress.

"Welcome home,  _ ol limlal." _

**Author's Note:**

> Much love to CR-Noble for betaing for me!


End file.
